


Remembrance

by Lobster



Series: A Year of Haymitch and Effie Drabbles [16]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 71st Hunger Games, Effie Does Not Do Well With Dead People, Ficlet, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mysterious Haymitch is Mysterious., POV Female Character, Pre-Canon, Sad, They Never Forget the Names, This Fic Is Very Sad, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobster/pseuds/Lobster
Summary: Fifty-two weeks, fifty-two prompts, fifty-two drabbles; this work is part of a series of Haymitch/Effie drabbles inspired by one-word prompts. This week's prompt: remembrance.Before the 71st Hunger Games, Effie and Haymitch take a moment to remember.





	Remembrance

The reaping was in two and a half hours and it was Effie’s job to track Haymitch down and make sure he followed the three S’s: showered, shaved, and sobered up. Only when she knocked on the door to his house and went in (holding her breath and gingerly trying not to step on anything that would ruin her shoes), he was nowhere to be seen. She’d searched every inch of that pigsty and he wasn’t even home. Which was completely ridiculous; he knew what day it was.

Her next thought had been the tavern in town, but he hadn’t been there either. Luckily the tavern’s owner had seen him and pointed her in the right direction, up a small hill at the edge of town. There were benefits to District 12 being the smallest district. Everybody knew everybody else's business. You couldn’t hide for very long. Effie followed the path up the hill.

The sounds of the rest of town seemed to fade away, as did the general smell of the district. She could hear birds singing in the trees just outside the fence and in a few trees surrounding a low wall at the top of the hill. She crested the hill and swung open a gate in the wall, then gasped at what she saw.

It was the district cemetery. Row and rows of headstones, most faded or worn, some with flowers or wreaths decorating them. Effie hesitated to enter. But then, at the back, she saw Haymitch. She was tempted to call for him, but surely you weren’t supposed to shout around so many dead people. Haltingly, she entered.

She tried not to look at the gravestones, but here and there one caught her eye. This person had lived and died before Panem was even really Panem. That person was only five years old. This one was only a baby. Whole families were buried together. Effie shuddered and walked faster to reach Haymitch.

He was right at the back of the cemetery and as she got closer to him she finally figured out why. This was where the tributes were buried, where Rosemary Louden, the other victor from 12, was buried. Now Effie really didn’t want to go further, but at the same time, something within her propelled her forward. She came to a stop beside Haymitch, who didn’t acknowledge her, just took another swig from the flask he had in his pocket. He smelled very strongly of spirits.

“I remember them too,” Effie finally said, quietly, breaking the silence.

“For all the good that does. They still end up here,” Haymitch said bitterly.

Effie didn’t know what to say to that. “Someone has to remember them,” she tried. “If not us, then who?”

“Who indeed?” Haymitch asked enigmatically. Then he took another swig from his bottle. “You know this will be my twentieth year mentoring? And I’ve never brought home a victor. I won’t this year either.”

“You don’t know that. I could pick-”

“You could pick the two strongest kids in the district, or the two smartest. Doesn’t matter. They’ll both be dead in two weeks. They’ll both be here.”

Effie didn’t have a response. Even in a best case scenario, one of the two children she picked today would be here within the month. She shuddered. Why did he have to come here today? Why couldn’t he have been in his house? The warm summer day suddenly felt icy cold.

“Come on Haymitch,” she said, shivering a little. “You need to come get ready for the reaping.”

He sighed, took one final pull at his flask, and then turned and began to walk back through the cemetery towards the town. Effie took one last look and then followed him out, ghosts of dead tributes trailing after her.


End file.
